


It's Only Forever (Not Long At All)

by Charmice



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Laura Hale, Kidnapped Stiles, M/M, Minor Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Minor Cora Hale/Isaac Lahey, Minor Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-02-10 17:54:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2034498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charmice/pseuds/Charmice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So Stiles is Persephone and Derek is Hades and Laura is just awesome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Scott would totally laugh at Stiles for getting bested by a flower.

**Author's Note:**

> yeah so I have no idea where this came from but BAM there it was nagging me and now here it is.  
> the title is stolen from the movie labyrinth bc jareth and sarah, like sweetie why didn't you stay but whatever it's your life
> 
> alive laura and claudia bc yay!
> 
> anyway this is a greek mythology au where Stiles is in the role of persephone and Derek is in the role of hades bc plot wolfies. it will sorta follow the myth? but with more fleshed-out parts/plot twists yada yada the whole shebang  
> idk where this is going. much like my life. :) just kidding. ok not really.

Stiles slowly opened his eyes and instantly regretted it. The unforgiving sunlight streamed through the trees, which of course shaded everything but his face. He squinted against the warm yellow light. Oh well, he supposed it was time to get up from his nap anyway. His mother would be looking for him. He laid there for a little while longer, listening to the rustling of the trees and the chirping and buzzing of the forest creatures. He heard a nymph giggle a little ways to his left, no doubt spying on him with her friends.

He stretched and got up from the soft grass that he was sleeping on a moment before. He started lazily walking through the peaceful woods toward the meadow where his mother frequented in the late summer. He picked a few flowers on the way, knowing that if he was late she would forgive him the moment she saw her favorite flowers in his hand. In only a matter of minutes, Stiles was nearing the meadow. He could hear his mother humming to herself, no doubt working on creating a new plant that she could make abundant on Earth for her darling humans to enjoy. She did like to dote on them, especially the ones who had an affinity for gardening.

Stiles enjoyed tagging along when his mother stopped by a gardener’s or farmer’s house, in disguise of course, to give them advice on the upcoming season and what was best to plant and how to care for the crops. He loved to see her in her element, helping out the mortals and giving some of the more stubborn plants an extra push to grow when the humans had their backs turned. Doing this occupied her mind and kept her busy; it helped her not be so lonely, since his father was always away dealing with business on Olympus. Most days it was just her and Stiles.

Stiles shadowed his father one day at Olympus and he never wanted to go back. He found the politics of Olympus boring and trite. They were always fighting over the same things, and Melissa was constantly in a melancholy mood ever since her only son, Scott, decided to leave Olympus for a while. She always brightened when she saw Stiles, though.

As the humming grew louder, something caught Stiles’ attention out the corner of his eye. It was a flower. It was definitely one of the more beautiful flowers Stiles had seen in his lifetime, although he was still fairly young. He thought that he was in a good position to judge, though. He _had_ seen a lot of flowers. His mother had definitely outdone herself once again, and the _smell_. Oh gods, Stiles would _absolutely die_ for that smell. He tried to pick a particular scent out, to put a name to it, but it was impossible. It was like trying to describe what the water from the trickling river where the nymphs swam tasted like. It flooded his mind, his senses; he wanted that flower more than anything he had ever wanted in his life.

It did not occur to him that if his mother did indeed create the flower, there should be more in the meadow where she was currently singing. But it was just that lone flower, sitting there, slightly swaying in the breeze. All he could think about was getting his sun-tanned hands on that flower right then. Changing directions completely, still fully entranced on the flower, he started making his way over the vines and forest underbrush to where the flower was growing.

The flower itself wasn’t very big, but man, was it beautiful. He was definitely his mother’s child, he thought, if he was this obsessed with a flower. The flower was a deep maroon, almost black in the now-waning sunlight. In the middle of the flower and in lines down the petal, there was what seemed like a dusting of blue-gray powder, and the center of the flower held what looked to be shriveled pomegranate seeds. Stiles leaned down and inhaled the fragrance of the plant, closing his eyes in satisfaction after the smell permeated his senses.

“Stiles?” Claudia called out. “Stiles, honey, I know you’re there. I have the most beautiful flower to show you. It took me forever, of course, but don’t they all?”

“Mother, you have really outdone yourself.” Stiles wished he could create something this beautiful.

“But you haven’t even seen it yet!” She laughed, causing the trees above him to sway, as if laughing with her.

“It’s right here!” He called back, his eyes never leaving the plant. “And it really is something. Where did you even think to come up with this smell? It’s amazing! I could lay here and smell it all day every day. I have to show Allison and Erica, they would flip over this thing! Maybe Allison can use it in her and Scott’s bond-renewal ceremony and then I’d have best-friend-in-law brownie points forever… ” Stiles mumbled this last part to himself more than to his mother.

He heard his mother start toward him. “Stiles? What smell? I haven’t created one yet for this flower yet, you must be…..” She stopped when she saw the flower that had her only son fixated. “Stiles, don’t touch that.”

“But why? It’s perfect. Like you could ever make something that isn’t.” He scoffed, slightly jealous. Every time he tried to make a flower on his own it ended up horribly – either the petals were deformed or the smell was horrible or the plant wouldn’t sprout roots. Stiles reached down to pluck the perfect flower from the dark soil. “Can you teach me how to make it?” He asked. His mother always knew how to help Stiles create a flower.

“Stiles! Don’t touch it!”

It was too late, but that’s the way things usually go.

The last thing Stiles remembered was the velvety feeling of the stem between his fingertips, the thorn that pricked his thumb, and his mother yelling for him as a quiet darkness firmly tugged him under.


	2. Stiles wakes up in hell...literally....pun intended....did he mention he was in hell?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooooooo.  
> i totally wasn't going to post this because there is no way chapter updates are ever gonna come this fast again (sorry!)  
> but.  
> i already had it written and i needed to post a few things correlating to the story before i went any further so happy birthday!  
> don't get used to this quick of an update :)

For the second time that day, Stiles woke up. This time, however, there was no light streaming through the trees on to his eyes, no nosy wood nymphs clothed in grass and leaves and vines spying on him, and no lively Claudia to talk to.

Instead, Stiles was faced with an almost-but-not-quite-dark room, lit by the misty gray light that seemed to ghost in from the window to his right, a sore thumb, and a pounding head that hurt like a bitch.

He winced, courtesy of his ginormous headache, somewhat thankful that the sun was not streaming through the window. He hadn’t been this hung over since him, Scott, and Isaac snuck those five bottles of wine from Scott’s dad last year to celebrate the summer solstice.

That had been one wild party. His mom really didn’t let him get out much, but she had her reasons as he proved that night. He couldn’t really remember, but he was pretty sure they pushed a blindfolded Matt off a roof because he was being a douche.

He was also pretty sure they shaved one of Erica’s eyebrows while she was sleeping, but the details were a little fuzzy. Then it clicked. Is that why he woke up naked and chained to the tree in front of Lydia’s palace the next morning? Lydia still wouldn’t take down that damn painting she commissioned when she found him like that. It was hanging in her foyer, and no amount of pulling and yanking that Stiles did could get it to budge from the wall.

Stiles also remembered that Isaac let it slip that he and Scott woke up together. Like _together_ together. Lucky bastards. At least they weren’t virgins, like Stiles. Although every time Stiles saw the curly-haired god, Stiles teased him to no end.

Stiles didn’t think that Allison knew, and he always blackmailed Isaac whenever he needed something.

But never again, he thought, never again. That wine was too strong for their own good.

Smiling faintly at the impromptu memories his headache brought up, Stiles returned to his present situation, still a little out of it.

Stiles supposed he was in one of Melissa’s many healing rooms at Olympus. His mouth tasted faintly of ambrosia. He started to sit up, but his aching head doth protest too much and he lay back down to appease it. Stiles opted to look around the room from his horizontal position instead.

He was on a large bed with silk sheets under his fingers in a dark hue, probably either a deep red or black, which he could not pinpoint between the hazy light and his squinting. The comforter that he supposed covered him at one point was entangled around his feet where he had kicked it during sleep, and two pillows were comfortably tucked under his head.

The bed frame was some type of hard metal, intricately and perfectly woven into some symbol that Stiles had never seen before and was cool under his fingertips. He idly traced the pattern that the iron mapped out for him before turning his head and taking in the rest of the room.

To his left sat a large mahogany dresser pushed against the farthest wall, a dark leather couch, and a nightstand. One closed door mocked him from the corner of the room, and another sat in from of him a few feet from the end of the bed.

To his right was another nightstand with some ambrosia sitting atop the dark wood and the solitary window that was letting in the not-quite-light.

He braced himself and sat up again, trying to ignore the constant pain in his head. He grabbed the golden liquid and quickly drank, hoping it would be enough to get rid of the ache. He fell back onto the pillows, letting out a content sigh.

He could already feel the pain beginning to recede. A few more minutes passed and the pain was just a dull throbbing that he could push from the forefront of his mind.

He kicked the blankets out from around his feet, swung his legs to the edge of the bed, and plopped his feet on the marbled floor, which was _ice freezing cold_. He let out a shriek, thanked the gods that no one was around to hear him, and slowly set his feet on the floor once more.

This time he was prepared.  

How hard was it to have some heated floors in this place? Ok, so maybe a heated floor was a little too much to ask for. Maybe some carpet, or a nice comfy rug, or maybe even some socks? Maybe Melissa was too busy to remember small niceties. She was probably used to the cold floor anyway.

Absentmindedly wishing for a thick pair of socks once again, he walked a few feet over to the window, hoping to see Lydia (who was probably not frolicking in the courtyard but reading in the library), or Isaac (who was probably visiting the mortal world), or hell, even Erica (who was most undoubtedly with Boyd somewhere canoodling).

What he saw instead made him stumble back against the bed and slide down to the floor, gasping loudly.

He couldn’t be here. He couldn’t he couldn’t he couldn’t he couldn’t. Maybe this was Scott’s idea of a joke? Scott totally could have got Deaton to perform some of his weird-ass magic as a prank, right? He couldn’t be here, but he couldn’t deny that he knew where he was.

He had heard the stories of this place, the never-ending winding rivers of all kinds of hell and the place where the sun didn’t shine and the absolute despair and malicious wickedness one felt while traveling too close to the Fields of Punishment or the entrance of Tartarus.

Stiles had heard stories about the hard-ass ruler who presided over his kingdom with an iron fist, never hearing out anyone’s pleas – immortal or not – always wanting more chaos, more strife, more death.

He didn’t know how he could have wound up here until he felt the sting in his thumb where he was pricked by that dumb flower.

That made sense: the unearthly smell that he was unable to place even though he had smelt all the plants in the world, the fact that his mother was confused about a plant, and the shriveled pomegranate seeds all pointed to the undeniable truth that Stiles was in the Underworld. The _Underworld_.

Seriously? How could he have been so stupid? He got tricked by a damn flower? He could hear Scott laughing at him in the back of his mind.

“Oh my gods. I am embarrassed for myself.” Stiles shook his head sadly at himself, hand over his eyes.

Really? Of course this happened to him. Stiles attracted bad luck like nobody’s business.

He could hear his mother now: “Sweetheart, gods don’t have bad luck. It doesn’t exist for us.” Yeah, yeah mom, try telling that to yourself now!

But Stiles reasoned that bad luck most likely _didn’t_ exist for the gods; he just handled all predictably dangerous and/or stupid situations with his usual finesse.

Oh gods, his _mother_. She must be worried sick by now. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate and seek her out as he was always able to do on Earth and on Olympus, but he kept hitting a blank wall.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried harder, but the blank wall remained, no matter how hard he pounded against it.

Stiles pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, his breaths coming in sharp gasps now as he tried to reach out to his mother. He didn’t know how long he sat there, pounding relentlessly against the block in his mind until someone laid a hand on his shoulder, jerking him out of his mind.

He looked up to see a girl, probably a little older than him, although it was hard to tell, with dark hair and green eyes. He took a few calming breaths.

“Stiles?” She asked.

Stiles wasted no time getting to the bottom of this.

“Hi. Yes, I’m Stiles, the guy that was drugged, kidnapped, and dragged down to this godforsaken place against my will. How may I help you?” He asked.

The girl’s mouth quirked up in a smile, no doubt amused at his antics. He made his kidnapper smile, he thought helplessly. At least he wasn’t getting tortured. Yet. His father would be so proud.

“Hello, Stiles. I’m Laura, and I know for a fact that that floor is freezing.” She rubbed her arms, which were the only part of her body not covered by her cream-colored dress.

“Actually, this whole room is subzero temperatures. We’re probably not making a great first impression, huh?” She held out her hand to him.

Stiles raised one eyebrow. Well, he tried to raise one eyebrow, but he hadn’t mastered that skill quite yet, so both of them went up. How could his eyebrows betray him in a time like this?

“There’s a fireplace in my room.” She said.

Well that was all he needed to hear. He placed his hand in her warm one, and she helped him to his feet.


	3. Laura is definitely a crazy person

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Laura wander around and find some stuff and Laura answers like 2 questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I'm not really happy with this chapter but it's been like 3 weeks so here it is. Idk where I'm going with this story. Sigh.
> 
> College has started for me so I'll try to write as much as I can on the weekends!! I'm GOING to finish this story by god so thanks for sticking with me!  
> I'm feeling kinda crazy right now i don't even know if i'm making sense. If anyone wants to beta, shoot me a message on here or LJ. This and previous chapters are unbetaed

Stiles followed Laura to the door in the corner of the room, which she opened with a slight flick of her wrist, seeing as it didn’t have a doorknob. The door swung inwards to reveal a long and wide corridor, numerous decorated doors flanking either side.

“C’mon,” she said, “The fire is waiting.”

Well Stiles couldn’t argue with that. He followed Laura out into the hallway, taking in the marbled floors and intricately designed doors as they passed.

When faced with the decision of taking a left or a right at the end of the hall, Laura went left. Stiles looked to his right to see another hallway, identical to the one behind him. The one Laura was headed down looked identical as well. This one, however, didn’t have branches of other corridors at the end, only a single door.

She put her hand on the knob. It flared white for a moment before she turned it and stepped inside the room.

He could tell this room was lived-in, unlike the one he had just exited. The one he had awoken in was spotless, not a piece of clothing or a memorable bauble in sight. It was bare of any decoration, and only included the absolute essentials.

This room, however, was…messy. There were various colorful dresses thrown over the bedspread, some were peeking out of the wardrobe – trying to fight for freedom even though the owner had tried to shut the door on them – thrown over furniture, and strewn this way and that across the white carpeted floor.

Little decorations and knickknacks that Stiles supposed Laura had collected over the years littered every available surface and paintings of vast landscapes adorned the light blue walls.

Stiles also noticed the higher temperature in the room compared to the chilly hallway and the downright arctic other-bedroom.

Laura had disappeared into the adjacent room, so Stiles didn’t try to hide the fact that he was still freezing and basically ran and/or maybe tripped his way over the clothes and his own awkwardness to the fireplace and the crackling fire inside and stuck his hands out.

From his new place by the Awesome Fire, as he had dubbed it, he could see the balcony outside the glass double doors and on to what seemed to be a courtyard below.

He was surprised to see trees and bushes and even some flowers here and there. His eyebrows rose; he’d never seen any of those flowers before.

How did the plants grow without sun? Who planted the garden, tended to it, or enjoyed it? The Underworld didn’t seem like a place for plants, especially flowers of any kind. Laura probably enjoyed them though, he thought, considering her room faced the small garden. He turned his face back to the fire, thinking. His mother had told him that nothing grew down here.

A few moments later, Laura reappeared and smiled at him.

“I had to get that built when I first moved here. Seems like a lifetime ago now.” She laughed, her eyes slightly crinkling in the corners. A look of nostalgia crossed her face. “It probably was. When you get to be as old as me, Stiles, all the years just blur together.” She said quietly, shaking her head, but the smile still lingered. “It’s always just on the side of too-cold in this place. I tried to get Derek to up the degrees a bit, but he won’t budge.” She scoffed. “Stubborn ass.  All the mortals assume that hell runs hot, but it’s quite the opposite.” Laura paused. “Sorry. I’m rambling. Just interrupt me when I do that or I’ll go on for days. I do that when I’m nervous. Gods, you’re probably ten times more nervous than me and I--” she cut herself off. “Sorry. I’ll shut up now.”

Stiles liked Laura already, despite the kidnapping and all. Anyone that rambled on as much as Stiles was definitely a friend of his.

Laura had a kind of openness about her, one that drew you to her and made you want to be around her. He wondered how Derek and Laura were actually related, considering the reputation he had built of being cold and heartless.

Stiles could already tell that Laura could probably make friends with anyone she met, regardless of the situation. She had made him feel at ease and had taken his mind off of his situation just five minutes after his panic attack. Maybe she was the welcome wagon of hell. She made the kidnappees feel at ease and then BAM-something awful happened to them and it was twice as awful because they weren’t expecting it because the first person they had met had been a nice girl. And because Stiles’ brain-to-mouth filter was broken, or maybe he just wasn’t born with one, he asked her.

“Are you the underworld welcome wagon? Do you lure people in with false pretenses that hell is actually nice and then crush their hopes and dreams?”

Her face got serious. “No. I’m actually the one who plans and enacts the punishments for the extreme cases.”

Stiles face blanched. “Say what?”

“I’m just kidding!” Stiles let out a breath. She went on, smirking at his reaction. “That’s my brother’s job. Makes him more morose if you ask me.” She stage whispered. “Truthfully, I try to lighten my workload as much as possible.”

Stiles fake swooned, although he was still a bit scared of Laura. “A woman after my own heart.”

She chuckled, and a smile was back on both their faces.

“So,” Laura said, clapping her hands together, a bright gleam in her eyes, “Want to take a tour and let me explain?” She held her hand out to help him up for the second time that day.

He took it, his actions showing his confirmation in the place of words. With a slight grunt, Laura hauled him to his feet.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions, so I’ll try to answer them the best I can. Some I’m not allowed to answer, so you’ll just have to bear your curiosity until Derek gets back.”

“Ok. First question: Do you have a pair of not-girly socks I can wear?” He asked, eyeing the pink dresses. “Although I can totally rock some pink if that’s all you have.” Desperate times call for desperate measures.

“Sure thing, sweetie.” She walked to the dresser. “I think I have a pair of Der’s in here that I stole at one point.” She mumbled to herself. “Aha!” She pulled out some plain black, but thankfully thick, woolen socks.

“Thanks.” He quickly pulled the socks on, trying not to think about the fact that he was wearing some of Derek’s clothing, even if it was just a pair of socks, and they headed out into the hallway. The marbled white and gray floors greeted him again, along with light gray walls and high ceiling. There were no windows and the walls and ceilings were bare, so he had no idea how they could see.

“Where is the light coming from?” He asked Laura.

“Oh, I think Scott helped out with that. He did something to the walls. It’s the same thing that’s going on outside. I tried to get him to make an artificial sun, but he said it wasn’t possible down here. He tried to explain why but he’s not the best teacher. Great singer though.”

“Yeah, he is.” Stiles replied, a tone of surprise in his voice.

“You know him?”

“I do. He’s my best friend.” Stiles frowned. “He never told me he came down here, though.” He tried to think back over the years, but he was drawing a blank. Scott had never given Stiles the impression that he knew the Underworld even existed. For as long as Stiles had known him, the only subject Scott was an expert in was Allison. Maybe he did this before he knew Stiles and just never brought it up. There was no way that he knew everything about Scott, even if they were best friends. It was a little odd, though. Stiles didn’t know a single person who had ever visited the Underworld, except for his dad and Isaac. Stiles had never asked his dad about it and when he had asked Isaac, he found some way to subtly change the subject.

Laura, however, seemed to have read his mind. “Derek doesn’t usually let visitors – even visitors that are useful – in the Underworld. I’m pretty sure he makes Isaac blindfold them on the way down. It’s for good reason, too. If anyone got curious enough, knew the way, and stumbled down here and fell into a river, immortality or not…..” She shuddered. “I wouldn’t go swimming in any river for fun while you’re down here, if you catch my drift.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to get it now.” Stiles replied. He’d heard enough rumors about the rivers to know to stay away from them.

After a few beats of silence, the question he wanted to ask since he woke up popped out.

“So why am I here?”

Laura stopped walking, her eyes cast down. “That’s one of those things I’m not supposed to talk about.” She looked guilty.

Her eyes found his. “But I’m going to tell you anyway because I think you needn’t be kept in the dark.” She sighed.

“This is really, really, really not my place but…Derek’s always held a grudge against your father and our Uncle Peter for saddling him with the Underworld. It’s definitely the harder job between the sky and the sea. He can handle it, and they know that he can, but that’s not the whole issue.”

Laura flipped her hair back over her shoulder, taking in a breath.

“Derek says that his opinion isn’t really taken into account during the Big Three meetings about the earth; Peter says that since Derek’s always in the Underworld, Earth is not his domain. He says that they don’t try to mess with the affairs dealing with the Underworld, so he shouldn’t try to mess with affairs dealing with Earth.”

Laura talked as they wound through the hallways. Stiles tried to simultaneously create a map in his head and listen to Laura, but after six right turns, four left turns, two staircases, and one secret panel, he lost count and couldn’t find his way back if a door to his mother’s favorite meadow was waiting for him in Laura’s room.

They finally arrived at the garden that Stiles had seen out of the balcony doors, but it didn’t seem like the trip should have taken him that many twists and turns. Maybe Laura was trying to confuse him? Or maybe the place really was just that big.

Even if he did try to escape and found a way out of the palace, then he would still be hopelessly lost. He had no idea how to get out of the Underworld alone, and he doubted anyone working under Derek would help him.

The dark-haired girl gestured for him to sit down on the stone bench. After they were both seated, she continued her story.

“It’s not just Derek’s opinion not taken into account, but the imbalance of power is getting to Derek. Your father and Peter are infinitely more powerful than they were centuries ago, when the human lifespan was short and death was quick to come by.”

Stiles leaned down to take the socks off, since it was mildly warmer outside the house than in. That, and the fact that it felt weird to have on socks on the grass.  Stiles had never worn socks in his life, except during his sparse visits to Olympus. He liked the way grass and dirt and the underbrush of the forest felt under his feet. Settling his toes into the cool grass, he tilted his head back; if he closed his eyes, he could pretend that the sun was shining.

“Nowadays, humans live longer, and as you know, every god and goddess on Olympus and Earth thrives on their liveliness. Derek, and the rest of us in the Underworld, however, thrives on death. Derek believes that Peter is, well…putting something in the water –”

Stiles snorted.

“– to make the humans live longer. I’ve done research that shows –” Stiles cracked open an eye and arched his eyebrow.

“Hey don’t look at me like that I said I don’t like to work, not that I don’t work at all! Now if you would be so kind as to quit interrupting.” She chastised him.

He smiled and closed his eyes again, the imaginary sun bright on his face, but he wished the light had the warmth of the sun as well. Eyes closed but ears alert, he kept listening to Laura.

“I’ve found out that humans are living longer at an increasing rate, much faster than what past records have shown. Subsequently, Derek is getting weaker, while Peter is getting stronger. If the power was being given to John, then we wouldn’t be nearly as worried. But Peter with extra power? I mean, have you met Peter?”  Laura laughed.

“Peter is Peter. He’s still family, and Derek just doesn’t want him to get a big head again and cause another war or something equally disastrous. He gets destructive when he’s bored. It runs in the family.”

Laura shrugged.

 “I told Derek that maybe he should just let it play out and let Peter cause another war. That way, your father will see Peter needs to be put back in his place, and Derek will have thousands upon thousands of deaths to bump his power back up. But truthfully, neither of us wants power that way. Derek really just wants what’s due to him. It’s hard for Derek to control this place without his share of power.”

“His share?” Stiles asked.

“Think of it like this. There is a finite amount of power that is split between the immortals at any one point in time. The amount of power available swells and recedes, depending on multiple factors.”

Stiles could already feel a headache coming on. He wrinkled his nose at the notion. He never did pay attention when his dad tried to tell him about the balance of power between the gods. Regrettably, he now wished he would have actually half-way listened.

In retrospect, everything on Olympus was quite distracting. He hardly had any room in his brain to stow away boring political facts when he could be eating his heart out at the buffet table or spending time with his long-lost friends who were always too busy to come visit Stiles.

Laura continued despite his inner chastising-his-previous-self monologue.

“Most of the power goes to your father, Peter, and Derek, because their domains are the largest and the hardest to control. Since there is an infinitely larger number of people dead than there are alive, Derek should be getting about half of the power so that he can control all of the dead, while Peter and John split the remaining half between themselves to watch over the living.” Laura ran her fingers through her jet-black hair, sighing again.

“For a while now, Derek has been getting less and less, because the death rate has significantly slowed. This wouldn’t be a problem, because the power usually balances itself out, unless it’s being tampered with, so to speak. Peter is pulling more power than he should. Your father can’t feel it, because his power is as constant as it’s always been. Peter is just taking the extra power from the people with the newly increased longevity, and your father can’t feel it because of Peter’s siphoning. To John, it seems like the same amount of people are dying at the same time, instead of them living longer like they are now.”

Stiles opened his eyes. He looked at Laura, who chewed on her bottom lip, and then turned his head back to the sky. The gray sky filled his vision; its color reflected his mood. Man, he missed his mom. He knew she’d be tearing apart the forest right now looking for him, like she did when he took too long of a nap by the river or when he made the long hike to his favorite apple tree. The worry was a weight inside his chest, pulling him down. And now trouble on Olympus. Again. Well, technically, he wasn’t alive when there was drama last time, but he’d heard stories. That’s all he had lived, was stories. He hardly ever left his mother’s side, and all he knew of other places and times is what he had heard by word of mouth.

He liked Laura, and he was glad that he met her, but he really just wanted to go home back to where stories and sunlight ruled his life and see his mom. Maybe he’d even visit his dad. All this talk about him made Stiles start to miss him as well, despite all the drama that happened to be going on Olympus. Stiles knew his dad, and he was most likely stressed out beyond belief.

He turned to Laura as she spoke again.

“Derek has tried talking to John alone, but John is neither here nor there. He won’t really pick a side, since it’s Derek’s word against Peter’s. John doesn’t want to back up Derek if they have no proof of what Peter is doing, but neither Derek nor John can outright ask Peter about it. Peter doesn’t take accusations lightly. It could start a feud to rival all feuds on Olympus, even if Peter is in the wrong. John won’t take action for political reasons, and Derek can’t take action against Peter at the moment because of his weakened state. It takes all of his power now to control his domain; he doesn’t have enough to manage the Underworld and a war with Peter. Peter won’t give up that power without a war, either, so it’s a no-win situation as of now. It’s kind of a mess, if you ask me.”

Stiles wholeheartedly agreed.  “My dad probably wants to take Derek’s side, but he doesn’t want to upset Peter. I’m sure after all these years, my dad knows how Peter is. Hell, I know how Peter is, and I’ve only met him a handful of times.”

Laura laughed softly at that.

Stiles did know how Peter was. He had never talked to Peter personally, but Lydia fed him stories when she decided to grace him with her presence in the forest.

He always had an abundance of peaches (her favorite fruit) waiting on her when he knew that she was coming. They would sit under the shade of the largest tree by Stiles’ favorite stream, backs against the bark, snacking on peaches while Stiles listened to the gossip Lydia had to spill on the various gods and goddesses.

Stiles had heard all too much about how Peter was a control-freak, always obsessed with being in charge, even with miniscule things. Lydia had told him how Peter was almost as devious and clever as she was, always looking for more power, and ambitious to no end.

Stiles had laughed it off saying that he hoped Peter and her never teamed up for anything. Lydia had punched him in the shoulder.

Laura and him sat in amiable silence for a moment, until Stiles spoke.

“What’s all this have to do with me?”

Laura gave him a sad smile. “I wish this wouldn’t have happened to you, Stiles, I really do. I didn’t know what Derek was planning until after the fact, but we can’t send you back now. It would cause John to go to war with Derek, and Derek wouldn’t have any leverage to hold against him to stop that. Basically, Derek took you to force John’s hand against Peter.”

“So I’m essentially blackmail material. Huh. Mark that off my bucket list. It was a smart move on Derek’s part, though.” Stiles agreed with that strategy.” My dad would commit murder to get me back.”

Stiles paused, thinking. “But who’s to say that he won’t coerce Isaac into telling him how to get into the Underworld, or force Isaac to stage a rescue mission and get me out of here?”

“Isaac has sworn on Styx that he will not give up the path to the Underworld to anyone or that he will transport anyone to or from the Underworld without Derek’s say-so.” Laura stared at him straight-on. “You’re not getting out of here unless Derek wills it.”

“That’s comforting.” Laura’s intense stare was kind of scary. “Just so we’re clear, I’m not gonna get tortured or anything, am I? I mean, it seems kind of counterproductive to be all nice to me and tell me your plans just to turn around and beat me up or something. Unless you’re one of _those_ villains. Which I have no respect for. Just so you know.”

Laura gives him an exasperated look. “We’re not going to beat you up, Stiles.”

“Ok. Good. No beating on Stiles, then. So what am I supposed to do?”

“Whatever you want, basically. Eat, sleep, run around in circles. You just can’t leave the gates surrounding the palace.”

Ok, so this isn’t so bad, he thought. On the plus side, no torturing, but on the minus (negative….bad…whatever) side, no awesome exploring the Underworld so I have some cool stories to tell Scott when I get back. Yep, like he was going to listen to that rule. When in Rome.

A single bell, like the one on a clock tower, loudly rang, causing Stiles to flail around for second in his usual manner. “What the hell was that?”

“That signals that the gates are opened.”

Laura looked up at the sky. At what, Stiles had no clue. All he could see was the same dull color no matter which way he turned his head or squinted his eyes.

“Derek must be back. Come on, Stiles, it’s time for you to meet your kidnapper!” Laura sounded way too excited. No one should sound that excited about something like that unless you were said kidnapper. Which, well. Stiles life had taken a turn for the worst.

“Somehow I get the feeling that you are enjoying this.”

“All too much, Stiles, all too much.”

Maybe it wasn’t Derek that he had to be afraid of, but Laura. He looked at her, standing over him, lightly bouncing on her toes like a small child that couldn’t wait to open a gift on its birthday. She had a suspicious glint in her eye, like she knew what was about to happen, and couldn’t wait to witness it. Stiles knew this glint, because he got it sometimes before he and Scott played pranks on Jackson back on Olympus.

Yep, Laura is definitely the one he would have to worry about.

“Come on, Stiles. Time to head back upstairs! And quickly!” She said, eyeing his still-sitting-down position on the bench. “Technically, you’re not supposed to be out of your room yet, but I was never a stickler for rules.”

Despite Laura’s blatant craziness, Stiles could already tell that they were going to be the best of friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love chocolate, tumblr, and reviews. but mostly reviews.


	4. Stiles and Derek interact (sorta)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 5/15/15: I fixed a few typos and stuff I didn't like because I didn't proofread last time shame on me  
> Sooooooorry it's been so long. Like i'm 95% scared to show my face now because it's been almost 9 months and whooo i could have a baby in that time so yep I'm sorry. But I figure at least i'm here..right....RIGHT?
> 
> Anyway, this chapter is...I won't say a filler chapter (but it kinda is). At least until I get my ass in gear. It's pretty short but hellooo lazy person here. And I worked today so I'm tired. Ok I'll shut up here ya go.

Back in the room that Stiles awoke in that morning, he was standing by the window, looking at the ground below. Laura had told him that his window almost faced the opposite side of the palace grounds than her balcony. While the garden was in the back of the gated property, the entrance gates were in the front, where were a few people milling about, dressed in casual robes.

Stiles, who had been watching the gates for a solid ten seconds (no one ever said he had a great attention span), caught sight of his kidnapper. “That’s him.” Stiles said, eyes following the figure storming through the gates. It wasn’t a question – it couldn’t be a question. Even if Stiles had never seen the god before, he would have recognized Derek by the way he carried himself. Derek stood tall as he walked the length to the palace’s doors which were flanked by two guards. What the enclosed place needed guards for, Stiles didn’t know. Probably to make sure he didn’t try to walk through the front door and right back to Olympus. Stiles wasn’t that stupid. Probably. _Debatable **,**_ he could hear his mother’s playful voice.

Laura came and stood beside him, her cool arm brushing against his warm one for a moment, breaking him out of his thoughts.

Derek’s hair, the same color as Laura’s dark strands, gleamed in the not-quite-sunlight down below. Derek seemed to loom over every man and woman he encountered, demanding the attention of everyone he was around. All eyes were on him. The people below bowed as he passed, except the guards, who just gave a brief nod of the head.

Stiles couldn’t look away from him. He couldn’t look away from the flowing cape, which John sometimes wore, except instead of white like his father’s, Derek’s was stark black, rippling and reflecting the soft light like his hair. He couldn’t look away from the way Derek had an angry scowl defining his face, like he had never worn another facial expression in his life. He looked at the way he took long strides, the way he radiated power. Even from afar, Stiles could sense it. Stiles’ short glimpse of his kidnapper was over when Derek disappeared into the palace’s front doors.

Stiles barely heard Derek enter the room an impossibly short time later. If Laura hadn’t turned around to greet him, Stiles would still be off in Stiles-land.

Stiles had seen glimpses of Derek at Olympus, but he never had much reason to pay attention. It was an unspoken rule to leave Derek and the rest of the gods that lived underneath well enough alone.  Choruses of _speak when spoken to_ _Stiles_ and _don’t stare for too long_ echoed through his head in his mother’s voice. If there were two things Stiles liked to do in his life, it was speak to whoever whenever, and to stare at whoever whenever. He wasn’t purposely being rude; he was just curious. But as Derek stepped into the room, Stiles disregarded his mother’s advice. Stiles drank in every detail of the god, noticing the way Derek’s shoulders were slightly hunched as if it had been a long day. He noticed the darkness under his eyes and the way he took deep breaths through his nose, purposely keeping his mouth closed as if fighting back a yawn. Stiles would know – he had tried (in vain) to hold back yawns whenever his dad decided to try and teach Stiles politics.

Up close, Derek didn’t look as intimidating. But that was probably due to the fact that he looked tired as hell and Laura had just called him Der-bear and was hugging him for all she was worth.

“Laura.” His tone was frigid. Stiles could have sworn the temperature dropped a few degrees. She untangled herself from him and took what might could be seen as a sheepish step back, like she had realized that she had demeaned the great lord of the underworld with nicknames and hugs. But anyone who actually talked to Laura for more than five minutes knew that she wasn’t _really_ sorry. Stiles could see it in her eyes and in her hint of a smirk slightly tugging up the right side of her mouth.

Derek gave her a look to say that she would be reprimanded later, and then turned to Stiles.

“Come with me.” Without another word, he turned around and left the way he came, completely silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed my weird ass writing :D


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